These rainy spring mornings aren’t exactly conducive to hopping out of bed. This is nice. There’s something about nice about waking up and not feeling the urgent rush to get out of bed if it’s one of the first sunny weekend days of the year. It can’t be wasted! We may never get another one. Even better to wake up to a sunny weekday, convinced the weather gods are mocking you because you will have to sit in a cubicle all day while all the other kids are outside playing.
Continue reading “Spring Into Monday”
Category: Uncategorized
Death to All Flowers
It’s day four of my long national nightmare. There are no signs of relief. My head hurts more with each passing day. I sneeze–repeatedly. Overnight, I’ve developed a hacking cough. My eyes feel like they will pop out of my head.
A few years ago, when I went to a doctor telling her this cold or sinus infection was kicking my ass, she said, “Silly little man. You have allergies.”
“I never had them before,” I said.
“You do now,” she said.
So who do I blame? Old age or New York? Obviously, blaming either of those would be silly because a) I can’t go back and time and b) I’m sure as hell not moving anywhere else.
So that leaves me with one solution. And that isn’t medication. I haven’t found any that works yet. They all make me feel like I have allergy symptoms AND I’ve taken some lame-ass drug.
So, only thing to do is kill every bit of vegetation in New York. The flowers won’t be hard. But the trees? Hmmmm. Well, if you see a guy on the nightly news arrested for running around New York with a chain saw, you can tell all your friends you know me.
Don’t Poop Where You Partake
I am lucky enough in this phase of my life to live within a 45-second walk from my favorite bar, a place where I’ve almost reached the status Norm had on “Cheers.” Taking a break from all your worries sure does help a lot. And it’s even better when everyone knows your name — but not your entire life’s back story or that thing you did that one time that none of your so-called friends just will not let go.
The Brazen Head is perfect for me: low-key; an interesting client base of locals, law students, lawyers, criminals and that one cat who just shows up and plays his clarinet along with whatever music is playing; a solid selection of bourbon (and Scotch, too, if you’re into that sort of thing); a dart board that is used by people who bring their own darts (I don’t play anymore, but this I find comforting); and a rotating selection of good beers but, just as equally, a place where no one is going to give you stink-eye if you order a Budweiser and a Jack on the rocks.
Also, the staff is exceedingly friendly and, in the case of the women, attractive (yes, even before the drinking starts).
Continue reading “Don’t Poop Where You Partake”
Louisiana Poets Storm Manhattan
So looks like Louisiana poets Sheryl St. Germain and Darrell Bourque, the state’s Poet Laureate, will be in New York next week for events. Bourque is not only the state’s Poet Laureate, he was one of my thesis advisors. So put that in your literary pipe and smoke it. Anyway, both events cost $10 for schmoes and $7 for students and seniors. The details break down like so:
Tuesday, March 9th:
Cornelia Street Cafe
6:30 p.m.
29 Cornelia St
New York, NY 10014
Thursday March 11th:
Poets House
7 p.m.
River Terrace
New York, NY 10282
My Hawaii Photos . . .
. . . Let me show you them.
Yes. He Still Lives
For the five or six of you who get to this blog without being poked by Facebook or prodded by Twitter, I AM still among the living. I’ve been in Hawaii. I even live-Tweeted and Facebooked the tstupendously tsuper tsunami that came THISCLOSE to MURDERING US ALL (and also screwed me out of my scuba dive). I’ll have photos and such later this week.
Hell freezes over
Saints win the Super Bowl. I actually don’t even know what to do. That’s unprecedented. That’s like me winning a tall-man contest. That’s . . . uh . . . I don’t even know what to do.
So I’m Holding a Glass
I’m holding a high-ball glass. Ice. Some Rebel Yell. Sitting by my computer. Pick the glass up. The glass breaks. The base of the glass separates from the rest of the glass. Clean break. Bourbon and ice everywhere.
I blame poltergeists. Prohibitionist poltergeists.
We Welcome Our Monkey Overlords
The Christmas Tornado
You know it’s Christmas Eve in Louisiana when you’re under tornado warning for the next fifteen minutes and you’re sitting in a chair, drinking coffee and looking out the window to try to see one! (Full disclosure: We haven’t seen one. And we’re probably just a tad outside the official warning zone.)
But hey, it is 71 degrees and I was beat down by a 10.99 all-you-can eat fried catfish and fried shrimp (yes, at the same time) dinner last night. (Wednesday’s, Miss Johnnie’s in Krotz Springs.)
Anyway, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all. Thanks for following along. Thanks for the support. Endeavors such as these would be impossible without you.
KEN WHEATON 